


Rich

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 22:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3151100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fíli and Kíli take a minute in the gold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rich

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The dragon scent is nauseating, but the sight of gold combats it, and Kíli’s greedy heart is nearly bursting with lust; he’s _swimming_ in coins. He tries to climb higher up the hill of jewels and minerals and luxuries of every kind, but his feet keep slipping, and it’s a hard journey. He does it on hands and knees, sinking one hand after the other into riches beyond his wildest dreams. Thorin used to tell them stories when they were younger of the glory of their ancestors, but it never prepared Kíli for the true majesty of it. For a moment, he forgets what he’s doing, everything he’s ever done, and is lost in the sight of _gold_.

Then he thinks he gets a whiff of his brother, a familiar comfort that draws him back home. His lust shifts to a different master and his smile stretches his lips. He calls, “Fíli!” His hands start digging frantically at the ground, searching treasures for his most prized possession. 

He’s focused in front of him that he doesn’t see the coins beside his left knee ripple until it’s too late, and they’re exploding, scattering everywhere as Fíli bursts out like a sandworm. He lunges at Kíli’s torso, roaring a battle cry. Kíli has no chance to dodge. He’s grabbed around the middle and tackled down to the makeshift floor, and Fíli goes rolling right over him, the two of them toppling right down the hill, end over end. It’s a bumpy, rough ride, but nothing worse than what they went through to get here, and Kíli’s laughing without meaning to—what a fantasy he’s landed in: tumbling through a dragon’s hard with his brother. 

They go crashing to the bottom, Fíli’s back hitting the stone, only barely visible around all the gems that scatter it. Coins slide with them, and a strand of pearls stripes half over Fíli’s chest, the end landing in his soft blond hair, haloed out around his head. Kíli lands on top, hips straddling Fíli’s, hands on Fíli’s shoulders. Now over the other side of the hill, they’re separated from all the others, and in this rare moment of delight, the dragon and the Arkenstone and all their troubles seem very far away. 

Fíli is shaking with his pleasured laughter, his face split with his smile, beautiful as it always is, even with all its scratches and flecks of dirt. The journey’s been hard, but worth it, and now here they are, in a bed of glimmering riches. None of the diamonds can reflect light quite so beautifully as Fíli’s eyes, and Fíli opens his arms wide, like inviting credit for hiding so well. 

Kíli has the urge to hit him, but instead leans down to flatten their mouths together, grind in for one hard, lingering kiss, all tongue and a little bit of teeth. Fíli’s breath is stale and dry, the cloying air so stifling around them, but Kíli puts it through enough work not to matter. Their kisses are all rough, because they know each other’s limits, know the boundaries and the buttons and every little nook and cranny that the other likes. Kíli drags his tongue along the corners of Fíli’s lips as he pulls away, digging into the grooves. Fíli lifts up to peck at Kíli’s chin, kiss him through the stubble, and Kíli has to laugh again, because it tickles. He tugs affectionately at the braid falling from Fíli’s mustache. Kíli pressed in those metal clips himself before this journey started, but now that they have richer materials, he thinks he’ll have to redo them: weave new braids and line them with silk ribbon and gold clasps. Fíli is fingering Kíli’s long hair like he might be thinking the same thing. 

When Kíli pulls back, sitting up again, his knees shift in the treasure and more coins come toppling off the nearby hill. Kíli stays where he is, all his weight on his brother’s crotch, while a new line of luxuries spill around them. An intricate golden headband bumps into Fíli’s side, and Kíli bends to retrieve it. He places it up on Fíli’s forehead, not properly on but good for a quick look: the shimmering luster goes well with Fíli’s yellow hair. Kíli can’t help but sigh, “You’ll make a handsome prince.”

“You too,” Fíli quips, and though it’s hardly original, the adoration on his face makes it sincere. He lifts his hands up to Kíli’s hips and squeezes through the array of fabric, urging Kíli to come back down. So Kíli obliges, bringing their lips back together and wanting to tear off every scrap of material that holds them apart. 

One of Fíli’s hand reaches to the side, gathers a fistful of gold and scatters it back over their waists, and Kíli grins but kisses through it. He gets the idea: Fíli’s trying to bury them in treasure, so they can forget the rest of the quest and end quite happily right here, with the rewards of their efforts and one another. Kíli could probably go for that, but he doesn’t help, because his hands are busy threading through Fíli’s hair. 

Then Thorin’s voice bellows from around the hill, “Kíli! Fíli! Get yourselves over here—there’s work to be done!” The order echoes in the giant cavern, bouncing off the pillars. Kíli reluctantly pulls away, Fíli’s hand still on his hips. 

With furtive, knowing looks, they climb back to their feet and head over the hill, fingers intertwined.


End file.
